Sunrise at Dhanushkoti (6.20 am)
However, there was a road block on the way out, put up by the police till 6.00 am, only after which we were allowed to proceed break-neck towards the pointing finger called Dhanushkoti. Road block is fine, but sun block not doable - that bugger WILL come out at its scheduled time of 6.04 am. We need not have worried though. Although the rain god abstained, so did the sun god, and after gazing at the cloudy sky which was streaked with silver like an aging yet handsome Pierce Brosnan, we gave in, turned our faces southward, and said hey-ho to distant Kanyakumari.
Breakfast at Vasantham's Veg, Patinamkathan (8.00 am)
You might well ask - Where the heck is that? And why is it important? Well, we had puri and dosa there, washed down with filter coffee, so it WAS a critical stop. This is also the all-important junction where, if one goes right, one goes back to Thanjavur, if one continues straight west, one lands up in Madurai, and if one turns left, which is what we cleverly did, one splashes into the sea at Kanyakumari. And if one is confused, one can always have breakfast there, of which there are 101 joints around.
Vivekananda Rock at Kanyakumari (1.00 pm)
A word to the wise, after praising TN roads sky high. I feel someone listens in, because NH32, which started to carry us along right after the brekker break, had a surface like the cheek of a teenager with a bad case of acne. Pockmarked, if you will. Cratered, if you are less than kind. It was only after NH38 took matters into her own hands with an expressway format somewhere near Thoothukody (which is not a problem with premolars but Tuticorin's true name, I kid you not), that I could stop dribbling like Pele and relax at the wheel.
One thing which had lifted our spirits as we passed the midway mark to KK was that the sun was definitely shining. In fact as we approached the jetty from which the ferry to V rock leaves, we were wishing that it wouldn't shine so bloody much. Light and heat are a sort of package deal, like Javed Akhtar with Salim Khan. We first thought we will reconnoitre the jetty and work out how to come back for the 4 o'clock ferry, which might let us see sunset from the V Rock. We had forgotten two things. First that it was a Saturday, and weekends are when the families feel strengthened and migrate in large herds across the touristy savannah. Secondly, this is India, boss, and nothing is so organized. You better get in line and get shoved into the first ferry that comes along, snatching up an orange vest that Mae West wouldn't be found dead in. We being the hoi polloi, bought ourselves 300/- premium tickets that put us behind 100 tense people instead of 500 jolly ones. The ferry, a rusty claptrap, chugged across for ten minutes to uncork us on a hot piece of rock.
I was visiting here after 28 years, when my parents visited us in Chennai, but that didn't prepare me for the rude shock of seeing a huge statue of a bearded gent next to V Rock! Could it be Ramkrishna I wondered, with a head of hair? Or Shivaji? Or Ravana with a single head, given that he is a favorite in these parts? Surreptitious enquiries revealed that it was Thiruvalluvar, the Tamil poet and philosopher, whose 133 ft statue was installed by Karunanidhi in 2000. Whatever be the history, it is not the sort of thing to spring on an unsuspecting Bong at 1.00 pm, when hunger pangs are at their highest. Nasty shock it gave me, I tell you.
I crossed to the rock but did not enter the building, which needed bare feet entry, which I try to avoid. And frankly I found no difference between the atmosphere of a fairground and that of V Rock meditation hall. Vivekananda would have run for miles (And I should know, having been born exactly 99 years after him)! But in the same breath, I admired the throng of visitors, who could find neither religious fervour here, nor the entertainment of multiplexes, yet they braved the hot sun to at least point out to their kids: "Look, look, that's the V Rock I told you about".
Hotel Sivamurugan at KK (3.30 pm)
A quick late lunch of the unspeakable, and we drove into our pre-booked hotel, albeit with some apprehension, particularly after our Rameswaram faux pas. But we breathed easy on this one - spic and span, big rooms, huge parking space. A quick bath and Panna took an even quicker nap. What to do, we are like this only!
Sunset point (6.00 pm)
KK boasts of great sunrises and sunsets, and the latter did not disappoint. The sea was pretty playful, being high tide, and the shrieking multitudes were equally distracted by the sky awash in orange and the feet awash in brine. Sunset can be seen from many points, but this place had a small beach and is locally known as Kovalam.
Triveni Sangam, behind Amman Temple (6.45 pm)
This is the southernmost tip of India mainland, and is supposed to be the meeting point of three seas (hence the name) - the Bay of Bengal to the east, the Indian Ocean to the south, and the Arabian Sea to the west. Ergo, supposed to be a holy place. Shallow and rocky, it is quite safe for families to wallow and wade in, without fear of one of the litter going missing. A dip here, and an obesience at Amman temple - and I guess that's an evening well-spent.
Tomorrow morning, we leave for Kovalam, thus entering Kerala.
Photo credits: Panna Rashmi Ray